Gorhan of the Deeps
by whitewolfsorrow
Summary: This is my first DA story, and will contain pairings. I'm placing Leliana and Alistair as the character categories for the story because they're the DAO characters that are closest to the warden. This story is my own version for a mage origin. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue: The Legacy**

The footsteps could be clearly heard on the marble floor, as the figure walked towards the fireplace, where his host was sitting in a fancy orlesian armchair.

When he moved to stand in front of her, she looked at him and smiled, and gestured on the other armchair before her.

"Oh, there you are!" she said as her guest sat on the armchair, "I was starting to think that you wouldn't come."

"An old friend sends after me, asking me to come on a most important matter… how could I refuse?" The man in question answered humorously. The ex-bard-ex-sister was one of his dearest friends; of course he would come, especially after not seeing each other for so long.

"How are you doing?" He asked, "And your son? Is he well?" He looked at her warmly.

"We are fine, both of us," the redhead smiled at the elven rogue, "What about you? Is the first warden doing well these days? Back in ferelden, I mean."

"Better than I had expected," he admitted, "the Dalish and the mages are doing well, though the city elves still cope with the new situation, the nobles and the chantry are pissed at our king, but he is having none of it," he laughed a little at the memory of the king's detailed description of what he thinks about them. "But on the whole, life… life's good," he said with a bit of sadness at the end, "I just wish-"

"That he was here with us," he lowered his head at the divine sister's answer. It wasn't a question.

The strongest warden in all of thedas did not respond, just nodded his head, barely.

"You would never be able to get over it, would you?" she asked softly, while placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. The elf was like a brother to her, and she knew what he was going through, even if just partially.

He touched her hand lightly, and said: "I never thought I would… Leliana." He looked up at her, saying her name for the first time.

"Time," he continued, "time does not heal all wounds; some of them will always remain."

"Yeah, that's true," she said, "But at least we have those who reminds us of him, and near, right Sairus?" She smiled as she saw her companion flush at her last remark.

"…Yeah," the elf answered, "It's still a bit odd to me, to both of us, but we're fine. The creators sure have a sense of humor," he rolled his eyes.

"Or the maker," Leliana added, "You never know."

Sairus just shrugged his shoulders, "perhaps… that doesn't matter right now," he shook his head and gave her a thoughtful look that was rewarded with a raised eyebrow.

"So tell me," Sairus started, clapping his hands as if to close the issue, "what is the **real** reason you called me here for?"

Leliana gave him a smile that held secrets untold and a bit of mischievousness, as she reached for something in front of the armchair. It was a book.

"That's…" Sairus almost cried at sight of the book. Almost. It was leather covered, dark red in color, with the silver insignia of the Grey Wardens atop. He knew what it was, but that was too much to hope for.

"Yes," Leliana confirmed his suspicion, "I thought it was time for everyone to know the real story, to the last detail."

"I can scarcely believe it…" Sairus murmured, staring at the book. Then, he lifted his head towards the storyteller and gave a delightful smile. "You actually did that?" He already knew the answer but still had to ask.

"He deserves to have his story heard out, all of us do," she said. "We've been through so much in that journey, and he was at the heart of it. He was a hero who sacrificed himself for all of us without asking anything in return. He deserved better. The least we can do for him is make sure that all he had accomplished, all that had happened, would not be forgotten and taken for granted," Leliana finished, her eyes turned away, tearful.

"The one who tales the tale is the one who decides history," he said suddenly, making his host to return her gaze to him. "He tales it wrong, and you've nothing more than a pretty story. He tales it right, and you've a legacy."

Leliana frowned, but did not interrupt as Sairus went on. "You want a story told right? You need to ask someone who helped make it happen. And, if that someone is you…" he trailed off as he reached to dry her tears, "**You **will make it awesome, of that I'm sure."

Sairus gave her a warm smile, and was delighted when she returned it. "There is, however, one thing that I still don't get," he started, and to Leliana's questioning look he continued, "I understand that when the story comes to light everyone will know, but why call me?" His voice was painfully sore at the question, and he could feel the pain that started to develop in his chest.

Leliana smiled at his softly again, and said: "You knew him even before he became the warden, even before Alistair. So I thought, if someone has the right to look at it before anyone else, it's you." She took the book from her lap and gestured for him to take it. "Think that you're up to it?"

Sairus blinked at her question, and the pain in his chest was suddenly gone. "Yeah…" he started, as he reached for the book to be placed in his hands, and caressed the Grey Warden insignia. "I can do that," he finished.

Sairus glanced at Leliana, once, then opened the cover and touched the first page. He opened his mouth, and started reading.

**Dragon Age Origins**

**IIIII**

Author's note: Hello everyone, this is Jess. I'm not so sure what to say, but I hope that the story will be… sufficient. Anyway, after playing DAO a few times, I've had an idea going on, although, I wasn't sure what to do about it or if to write it on at all. But, after playing, DAO/Awakening and DA2, it was confirmed to me that I just had to do it, so here goes.

In this story, I'm going to show a different kind of a mage origin, one completely different from the ones of Amell/Surana origin. Some of you will probably protest at the idea of the character's ideals, personality, or of the idea of where this character came from, and of course there is the issue of Sairus the elven rogue who is **not **the main character but another one that I've invented that has a big rule in this story, and probably in those who will come after, but I can't promise.

As the story goes on we will meet characters that you know and some that you don't, including the could be wardens of other origins such as Amell, Mahariel, Cousland and others. It's even possible that they would be mentioned but won't actually meet the warden and would show up at other stories more dominantly. That would probably be another reason to protest since in the game if one origin is played then the others apparently don't exist.

Even so, I hope that you would enjoy the story and if there are any questions just let me know.

*Sairus words about the 'one who tells the tall' are indeed what Varric from DA2 says about himself. Since Leliana is the storyteller, I thought it was right to say that, and since Sairus is the reader and will express his feelings about the story, he will say more things that Varric would've said, even about himself.

On that note, this is the prologue to my new story, **Gorhan of the Deeps**, leave me some comments when you finish reading, and I'll see you next time. Until then.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1: Mage of the Deeps**

_Since a very young age, you lived and grew up within the Deep Roads, ancient tunnels, who where once part of the old dwarven kingdom, before the darkspawn invaded and captured them. A child so small would not have survived there for a minute, but you were lucky enough to meet the mage of the deeps. By him you were raised and taught, and when reached a certain age, the mage died, you were left alone. So it was, that you became the mage of the deeps._

**IIIII**

The air stood tense as the man walked step by step along the edge of the valley.

Gorhan was many things: a mage, a wanderer, a youngling, free… But he wasn't stupid, foolish or whatever. Even so, many would assume just that from his current actions, but he had a gut feeling he needed to be there, that there was something he had to see... and he would be damned if he didn't trust his own instincts. After all, his father had told him that one who does not trust his instincts is a fool, and Gorhan is not a fool, is he now?

So there he was, Gorhan, mage of the deeps, his deep blue eyes gazing upon the view of the underground valley, where all the darkspawn gathered their army, where **he** was supposed to show himself, after all these centuries…

His line of thought was cut off by a loud roar, and before he could react, a great shadow leaped from inside the valley with inhuman speed and landed on the remains of the bridge nearby, which had view of the whole valley in front of it.

_It's him… _the mage thought as he watched the creature with mixture of fear and fascination. The dragon was huge, but unlike any other high dragon and way more powerful. For an instance, the appearance of the creature was almost as corrupted as its aura, but not as much as it's tainted soul. Dark scales that seemed to radiate the darkness inside the body they shielded, roars that hid their true nature – songs to control the horde to fulfill his commands, black flames filled with wickedness and taint, corruption.

Gorhan could feel the sweat running down his face as he shook in fear of the presence of the old god- _No, _he told to himself, _not an old god, an __**Archdemon**_. The crushing aura of the tainted god made him want to run away screaming, to crawl into a hole in the stone and hide.

Gorhan's head started to throb in pain, it became heavy and his vision blurred. Gorhan held his head with both hands and groaned. He knew what was coming and knew he couldn't stop it. Then his eyes snapped open and his pupils grew dangerously big.

_**Flashback**_

_"Fearing the beast is not a weakness but common sense," said the elf, as he held my shoulders from behind in an encouraging manner. I'm listening, taking in every word, but not for a moment averting my gaze from the deepstalcker in front of me. "But letting your fears in the open __**is**__ a weakness, even if it's only to yourself… you mustn't give in to the feeling of helplessness… remember it, child."_

_**End of Flashback**_

The memory vanished as fast as it emerged, and Gorhan took a few steps back from the force of it on his mind. It wasn't a bad memory but the fact that it emerged at all was disturbing.

Gorhan looked at the Archdemon one last time and glared at him, then turned around and recovered his steps.

**IIIII**

It was unusual. On a normal day, Cadash Thaig, like the rest of the deep roads, was swarmed with Darkspawn. But now, now it was nearly empty aside of the spiders, deepstalkers and the occasional bronto.

Gorhan knew why it was so, as his father had taught him. Ever since the Archdemon made an appearance, the numbers of the darkspawn had decreased. And that meant that the corrupted dragon was gathering the horde to march on the surface, and bring a blight upon the earth, a disturbing thought.

All this crossed through Gorhan's mind as he walked through the thaig's path to his home.

The mage's home was in one of the many abandoned buildings of the thaig, there he slept, ate, crafted his equipment, and tended to his wounds and so, but other than that he preferred to wander through the thaigs, killing darkspawn, talking to the legion of the dead, and chasing down ghouls. _But of course-_

"Oh, there you are! Where have you been?" A voice asked as he entered.

_-there are, other reasons why to come back here, _Gorhan thought with a smile as he closed the door and greeted the voice' owner.

Ren Aeducan was once a member of house Aeducan, daughter to the King of Orzammar. After being framed of killing her older brother by the younger one, she was exiled into the deep roads. With a sword and a shield alone, even though she was a rogue trained with a bow, she managed to survive. An impressive feat.

When Gorhan found her, she was a wrack; the young dwarf covered in blood and exhausted from the constant fighting. Lucky for her, her body didn't develop the Taint, so Gorhan hadn't had much trouble treating her wounds. But scars of the soul weren't as easy to heal as wounds of the body. It took time, but eventually she came along.

Gorhan hugged her lovingly and then pulled her back a bit, to have a better look at her.

Unlike Gorhan, whose skin was pale, with dark grey hair and deep blue eyes, the former dwarven princess had dark skin, hair the color of darkness and golden eyes. She told him that in contrast to her brothers, she was the only one resembling their mother, who perished from illness a few years back.

Now she was smiling at him with those full lips, expecting him to answer, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to get away.

"You are not going to like this," he started, releasing her from his hold and sitting on the chair nearby, hopefully delaying the outburst that was sure to come.

"Aren't going to like… what?" she asked, now frowning, with a look that demanded an explanation.

Gorhan sighed. He didn't understand what was the point in hiding it, and decided to just let it in the open.

"I went to one of my explorations," he began. "Eventually, I've found myself wandering near the dead trenches-"

"You went WHERE?" she shrieked.

"Oh, I didn't get to the best part," he continued, "I went straight to the darkspawn valley, and I've seen the Archdemon himself first hand! Isn't that impressive? Oh, and by the way, it triggered another memory."

For a moment, they both were silent, the tension in the air almost as thick as in the valley. They kept staring at each other, and then the beating started.

"YOU STUPID NUGG HUMPER!" She shouted as she hit him with full force, enough to send him to the ground actually. "You could have gotten yourself killed! Are you even aware of that? Do you understand what could have happened when you were stuck in your own head? You could've tripped over the edge and fall straight to the Darkspawn without even realizing!"

_She thought about everything it seems, _he thought bitterly, still trying to get away from her painful punches. She was still hitting him.

"Okay! Okay! I do understand! Stop hitting me!" Gorhan shouted, his hands up in the air in surrender.

The dwarf backed off, but her body was tense. Her hands were clutching her arms tightly and she was glaring at him silently.

Gorhan took a deep breath and let it go with a sigh.

"Eh, okay," he said, "Maybe my way of explaining wasn't the best."

"To put it mildly," she answered bitterly.

"Yeah, I know, you're angry but hear me out," he continued.

"I was doing my usual patrol at tunnels near the Dead Trenches when I felt it, you know, that feeling that comes around when something's happening? Well, this time it told me to go there, and I don't know how, I don't know why, but the Darkspawn fund and awakened another old god and corrupted it. I was _standing in the edge, and suddenly he appeared, his body almost as corrupted as its soul. I'm frightened, terrified. I try to look away but I can't! My breath's heavy, my body's frozen, and before I know I'm—"_

"GORHAN, SNAP OUT OF IT!"

Gorhan blinked once, twice, then looked at Ren to see worry in her eyes instead of anger. He knew then exactly what happened.

He gave an exasperated sigh before his legs gave out under him and he sat on the floor, suddenly tired.

"Why is this happening to me?" he asked out loud.

"It's because you're human, Gorhan," Ren answered. "The Lyrium in the Deep Roads affects humans and elves differently then dwarves, you know this."

"Don't remind me," he muttered.

"Hey," she said softly, sitting beside him and holding his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her, "don't stress yourself thinking of it, okay? I'm sorry I got angry, but I'm worried about you. Tell you what, now it's your turn, ask me anything."

The mage smiled at her gratefully, his posture relaxing and as he started talking, his hands were stroking her hair absentmindedly.

"I guess that's okay, and thank you," he added. "Well… what should I ask? Oh, that's right! How's Sairus doing? He seems less thin then he was a weak ago, last I checked."

"Yeah, he's fine, he seems to adapt quickly!"

"Well, it's not to be unexpected, living for eight hundred years does that to you, I guess," Gorhan answered half jokingly.

He smiled when he heard Ren's laugh. From some odd reason, her laughter has always made him feel better.

… Little did he know how short lived this happiness was going to be.

**IIIII**

Author's note: So, here it is, the second episode of my new DA story. And if you did, then you guessed right. Gorhan, as I call him, is the main character of this story. If you've got any questions, just send them my way. Hope you like!


End file.
